


Daddy Knows Best

by danpuff



Series: Yes, Daddy [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, Dehumanization, Dirty Talk, First Time, Impregnation Kink, M/M, Mpreg, Objectification, One Shot, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, True Love, Verbal Humiliation, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24899938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff
Summary: Harry and Severus make a baby.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: Yes, Daddy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806655
Comments: 23
Kudos: 582





	Daddy Knows Best

At twenty years old, Harry Potter knows that he’s gay, and that he has a preference for older men. By then he is out about the former, but not about the latter, but it’s never mattered because he’s never had a boyfriend or lover to speak of. He frequents bars alone. He feels too awkward to approach anyone, but he watches from afar. And sometimes a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a lined face will saunter over to buy him a drink. And he’ll flirt. And he’ll kiss. But that’s all he will do.

“What, do you have daddy issues?” asks the barkeep.

“My dad is dead,” Harry replies gloomily. “So maybe.”

One night he spots a familiar face, sharp and pale and bearing the lines of many eventful years. Same hooked nose, same greasy hair, same thin lips he’s dreamed of too many times. Harry’s breath catches in his throat. “Oh no,” he whispers, and finishes a drink and a half before gathering the courage to approach. Because he wants to annoy Snape, that’s all. Annoy, not flirt. Not with _him_. Of course not. 

“Your brain is more addled than previously suspected,” Snape tells him. “Chasing after men old enough to be your father.”

“Oh, should I call you ‘Daddy’, then?” Harry teases. 

And the heat flaring in those black eyes stokes the heat of his arousal. When he leans in for a kiss, Snape turns his face. The taller form crowds him, kissing cheek and jaw and ear. Severus suggests that he is a very bad boy, so Harry suggests that he could use spanking. Severus smirks and invites him up to his room.

And in his room, Snape makes him sleep on the couch, and does not touch him until he is good and sober the next morning. Sober, and begging. 

It is with morning sunlight spilling into the room, and the sound of voices in the hall, that Snape pulls him over his lap and spanks him. And after, the man lays him out, biting and kissing and licking until he’s sobbing in frustration. 

Only when Snape is settled between his legs, cock hot and heavy against his thigh, does he whisper, “I’ve never done this before.” It occurs to him now that he’s terrified, but he wants it badly enough to go through with it. And it occurs to him that he’s wanted this, wanted Snape, for longer than he cares to admit. 

There is a brightness in the black, vicious and consuming. The grip on his legs tightens. Pre-come drips to his skin. Harry does not breathe in the beat of silence, and cannot when Snape kisses him hungrily. He parts only long enough to drawl, “Let Daddy take care of you, then.”

* * *

At twenty one, Harry pulls the book from his lover’s hands and crawls into his lap, kissing scarred neck, rubbing eager cock against flat stomach. Severus grumbles, grabs his book, and smacks Harry on the bum with it.

“Hmm. Don’t you like it when I’m naughty, Daddy?” Harry places his hands on Severus’s shoulders, repositioning himself for optimal thrusting. 

Severus raises an imperious brow. “You realize that is disturbing, don’t you?”

It is, and Harry does know it, and he’s embarrassed. To cover this, he cheekily asks, “What? Don’t you want to be a Daddy?” 

Severus stiffens beneath him, and not in the way Harry wants. He gapes at the guarded look in those eyes, something fearful and hopeful squirming in his middle. Severus sees that Harry knows and his face flushes as he unceremoniously dumps Harry onto the cushion beside him. 

“Really?” Harry breathes. “Could we adopt, do you think? Or find a surrogate?” 

“You don’t wish to experience the joys of pregnancy yourself, Potter?” Severus snarls nastily. 

Harry grins. “Is that possible?” 

Severus considers him. “…I’ve a project five years in the making. It - may be possible.” 

Children always seemed like too far-fetched a fantasy. Harry Potter had never had a family, not really. And because of this he wanted it desperately. But it never seemed plausible, not for him. Now, though, he is in love, and happy, and dizzy with possibilities. 

So he does the only thing he can - he grins, grabs Severus’s face, kisses him deeply, and says, “We should practice, then. Now. Please, Daddy.”

* * *

At twenty-two he says yes when Severus proposes, and pinches himself for days after. Silly daydreams of marriage and children and happily-ever-after still seem too silly to be his real life.

* * *

At twenty-three he stands before friends and family, beaming so broadly his face aches. And he chuckles under his breath when the officiant guides him through his vows, because it occurs to him to say _“I, Harry, take thee, Daddy”_. The horrified expressions of their guests are clear in his mind. But that would be embarrassing for everyone, himself included. At his chuckle, Severus glares at him, and pinches his hand hard. 

So Harry bites back the rest of his amusement, and his voice only trembles a little when he says the words. “I Harry, take thee, Severus,” sounds just as nice. And being pronounced husband and husband sounds even better.

* * *

At twenty-four, when he’s on his way to work, Severus stops him in the hallway and presses a vial to his lips. “Drink this,” he says. So Harry swallows obediently. 

Severus smacks his bottom. “You do not even know what it is.”

Harry shrugs. “I trust you.” And kisses his cheek as he leaves. 

He’s quite forgotten about it when he gets home. Severus is waiting in his armchair, stroking his lips when Harry stumbles out of the Floo. There is a large, unmarked box on the floor that Severus points to.

“I’m going to make use of you tonight. Carry that,” Severus says. 

Severus likes to order him around with frivolous requests. This can be either annoying or amusing. Today Harry smiles indulgently and lifts the box to follow Severus upstairs into the guest room. Once the box is placed on the floor, his husband lifts him and Harry lets out a startled squeak. He scowls when he is dumped to the bed, but is breathless by the time Severus crawls over him.

“I thought you were using me for muscle, not sex.”

“I’ll use you for both if I like,” Severus purrs. Lips ghost over his. “But your primary use is as a broodmare.” 

His heart skips a beat, understanding the words before his brain catches up. Severus is halfway through stripping him when he blurts out, “Wait, what?” 

“Do listen, Potter. I’m using you as an incubator for my spawn,” Severus replies, neatly dropping his clothes to the floor. Harry props himself up on his elbows, but Severus flattens him back out with a hand on his chest. Those eyes are dark and deep, and flickering with what might be a threat, or a promise. Harry never knows which it will be, and it’s always thrilling. “I’m going to spread you open and use you for my pleasure. Then, once you’ve recovered, I’m going to set you to work setting up that-” he points to the box “-cot for the child. After which, you will take this bed I’ve impregnated you upon and move it to the attic. We’ll keep it for posterity’s sake. Perhaps if you behave, I may breed you on it again. How does that sound?” 

“Oh God,” Harry gasps, and he’s _hard_ \- he’s so very hard, and so very confused. 

“But we must see how you do with the first,” Severus adds. His fingers are graceful as they move down his buttons. As he works, he examines Harry’s exposed flesh as if he’s checking the quality of a cauldron. Harry’s hips flex up of their own accord, but Severus presses him back down with a hand on his middle. “Behave. Remember?” Severus reminds him. 

“Jesus, fuck. Yes. Sorry.” 

Though they are both now naked, and both very aroused, Severus handles him with none of his usual heat. It’s the clinical manner with which he chops and measures ingredients, the way he stirs a bubbling brew, the way he checks a finished product for perfection. It is this calm surety he uses to pluck Harry’s nipples and stroke his cock. It is the same measured motion he uses to open Harry up with slick fingers. 

It is impersonal, and cold, and something in his chest aches, even as he quivers beneath the boiling lust in his belly. It is the calculating look in his husband’s eyes that holds him still and silent. Harry licks his lips, and swallows through the dryness in his throat. He likes it, and he doesn’t, and he isn’t sure if he should stop him or not.

“Th-the potion?” Harry asks. When Severus frees his fingers, Harry shifts his hips away, but when his legs are tugged, he reluctantly spreads them. “Severus?”

The man pauses, and there is a shift behind those eyes that belies the mocking in his voice “Sweet boy. Do you require reassurance?” 

“Yes, please.”

“Well, you should not,” Severus says. He kisses him tenderly, heavy cock sliding against heavy cock. Harry trembles hard and whimpers, quite embarrassingly. “Idiot boy. Do you think I would entrust just anyone with my progeny?” 

“N-no?” 

Severus settles down over him, mouthing absently at his collarbone between words. “I can find another, if you prefer.” 

“No!”

“Well?”

By degrees, Harry relaxes beneath his husband. The knot in his chest has loosened, and he squeezes the older man with his legs. “Please?”

“Please, what?”

“Give me, please. Put your baby in me, Daddy, p-please.”

“You ask so nicely, my boy,” Severus croons. His motions are more fluid, now, fueled with warmth as he slides into him. It’s so easy, and Harry _sobs_ with the relief of being so full. So connected. At times he thinks he is not whole without Severus in him, and more so now, because he has never been so turned on in his life. 

“Please please please please please,” Harry gasps as Severus’s hips press flush against his. He’s clinging and mindless and babbling already. Severus chuckles into his ear. 

“You’re such a slut for it, aren’t you?” He glides in and out slowly, smoothly, and Harry whines. “It’s lucky I found you when I did, isn’t it? You’d be throwing yourself from cock to cock if I hadn’t. You’re so hungry for it. Aren’t you?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Hmmm. You were made for it, you know? You were born to be fucked.” The tone is unkind, but Harry’s cock is leaking in spite of it, or because of it. “You revel in it, don’t you? Spread and stretched out for another man’s pleasure, isn’t that right? You just love to be taken, and taken, _and taken again_.”

“ _Ohgod_.”

“Such a shame no one else will ever know. That you’ll never know another but _me_.” Severus pins his shoulders to the bed, and uses this grip to prop himself up. There is a mad glint in those eyes as they stare down at him. Such elegant fingers clutch him so possessively, and Harry knows it eats at him - the mere idea of another man’s hands on him, even if it isn’t real. Just the thought of it is acid in his gut, and Harry _knows_ , because he knows him, inside and out. “Because you’re mine, aren’t you, boy?”

“Yes, Daddy, yes, yours, only yours,” Harry swears. Because he likes when Severus is jealous. He likes to flirt, and he likes to be looked at, because he likes when Severus grabs him and claims him. And he likes saying the words, _”I’m yours, I’m yours,”_ like they matter. 

He likes it. And it drives Severus mad, but he likes it, too. 

“Good,” Severus says. “Because no one will want you when I’m through with you.” 

Harry already feels rather useless, like a puddle of goo, and he can barely breathe, overcome as he is. So when Severus shifts onto his knees, grasps his hips, and _rides_ him - _punishing, ruthless_ \- any lingering thoughts flee.

“Eyes on me, boy,” Severus snaps. Harry obeys, mouth hanging open, grasping at his husband’s arms, arching up. “I’m going to spill myself inside of you, understand? Again, and again. Pump you so full of my seed it has no choice but to take root.”

“Please, _yes_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” his husband echoes. “And you’ll take it like a good boy, won’t you? You’ll be good for me, won’t you? You’ll provide me - a strong, healthy - heir, - _won’t you_?”

“ _Yes, Daddy, I will, **yes**_.”

“They’ll envy me, won’t they, boy? When you’re swollen with my child.” Severus’s face is red, eyes gleaming, his pace steady and relentless as he pumps into him. One hand slides to his lower back, the other embracing his neck. No pressure, really, but a threat that has his nails digging into powerful forearms, tilting his chin up to allow it. “But they won’t want you, will they? You’ll be too full of _me_.”

“Touch me, please, God,” Harry begs. It’s too good and he has to get off right now - _right now_ , before he loses what’s left of his mind. 

“No,” Severus growls. “Focus - on your task. A little - brat with - _my_ brains and - _your_ eyes -” And that is enough. That is all it takes for Harry to scream, bowing up and erupting between them, ashamed and confused and elated. “That’s it,” Severus breathes. “And my nose, too. So no one - questions - who fathered - your _whelp_.” 

“ _Daddy! God!_ ” Harry squeaks, panicked because he thinks he might well come again, and he isn’t sure he can take it.

His husband’s thrusts are erratic, and sharp. He presses in as deeply as he can, grunting like an animal. And Harry can feel the warmth spreading inside of him as Severus pants into his neck. Harry thinks of the wetness of it, soaking into him, and the possible growth. He blinks dazedly at the ceiling as his husband rolls off of him. And sucks in a breath when two fingers slide into his loose, sloppy hole. 

“It has to stay,” Severus explains. His free hand strokes Harry’s toned stomach wistfully. 

Harry covers this hand with his, then slaps his arm with the other. Green eyes narrow. “We might have discussed this before you _fed me a pregnancy potion_.”

Severus turns to kiss his wrist, lacing their fingers together as the fingers inside crook. Harry gasps. “You might have asked what it was before drinking it.”

“This is sort of a big step, you know?”

“I am aware. Do you not want children?”

“Yes, you know that.”

“Then do be quiet.”

Harry hums contentedly and snuggles closer. “I hope you don’t expect me to set up that cot anytime soon.”

“No time soon, no.” Severus kisses him lovingly. Then filthily. “We have to be sure it takes.”

So he frees his fingers and pulls Harry on top of him, guiding the well-used body onto his renewed arousal. 

There is no time to rest, with a job to be done.


End file.
